


[freeze]

by drunkkenobi



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Anxiety, Cabin Fic, First Kiss, Ice Powers, Ice Skating, M/M, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkkenobi/pseuds/drunkkenobi
Summary: “Stay back, I don’t know what’s happening!”Shane didn’t stop, following him with a now-steady hand. “Ryan, stop, just breathe.”“I can’t, there’s snow, stay BACK!”As Ryan yelled, a six-inch cone of snow burst from his hands, just missing Shane’s outstretched arm. It fell to the floor in a neat pile, the edges already melting from the fire.They stared at each other and then at the snow, dumbfounded.What thefuck?
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 30
Kudos: 123
Collections: Skeptic Believer Book Club Secret Santa





	[freeze]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quackers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quackers/gifts).



> I was given the prompt of "snow" and went full Elsa with it. I hope you enjoy ice puns because there are...so many. (including the title. [wheeze])
> 
> Thank you so very much to Bee and Jess who helped me brainstorm this fic, and especially to Bee for also beta-ing!

It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend away. A three-day vacation from the office, just Ryan, Shane, and Steven. No talking about work, just bros being bros and enjoying all the beauty the San Bernardino Mountains had to offer.

Ryan should’ve known it wasn’t going to go as planned when Steven told them he’d have to drive up separately because the kennel where he was housing Simba for the weekend had a scheduling mix-up and he wasn’t going to be able to get out of the city until after 6.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll meet you and Shane up at the cabin tonight. It’s for the best, too, I forgot to bring Simba’s food and I can’t have him eating generic.”

“Yeah, can’t have that,” Ryan said sarcastically. “Just try to get out asap, the forecast says it might snow tonight up there.”

“Absolutely. And I’ll bring some trademark Steven Lim cocktails! And Uno!”

“Uno is a terrible idea,” Shane chimed in as he loaded his bag into the back of Ryan’s Prius.

“You’re just saying that because you’ll lose,” Steven teased.

“I am, hence why it’s a bad idea.”

“Whatever, man. I’ll let you know when I get on the road.”

“Sounds good. See ya tonight, Steven,” Ryan said as he hung up. “Why am I not surprised you hate Uno?”

“Because it’s a nasty, vicious little game,” Shane said. “No fun.”

“Sounds like someone has never won a game of Uno in his life.”

“Sure haven’t.” 

The drive up to their AirBnb cabin was smooth until the last ten miles when the snow started coming down in a blanket. It wasn’t Ryan’s first rodeo with driving in the show, but his car was small and the snow was heavy. They slid more than once, but Ryan was able to keep them on the road, thanks in part to Shane’s penchant for dumb jokes when Ryan was at his most stressed.

As they finally pulled up to their weekend cabin getaway, Ryan unclenched his fingers from the steering wheel.

“So. You think the Tesla is gonna make that drive?”

“Not unless ol’ Musky put in some secret snow tires on that thing,” Shane said grimly. “I’ll call Steven.”

It was a bummer. Ryan really had been looking forward to the three of them hanging out all weekend. They hadn’t been able to do something like this all of 2020, too busy and too socially distanced to make the time. But the doldrums of late January had finally allowed them some quarantine time and a spare weekend to make it work. It wasn’t going to be the same without Steven here to bully, and team up with to bully Shane with basketball talk. 

There was also a small part of Ryan that had to admit he was anxious about spending the weekend alone with just Shane. They hadn’t traveled together in a long time and he worried it wouldn’t be the same or that it would be weird, somehow. Even though they talked every day, they still weren’t in the same rooms very often and now spending a whole three days together, just the two of them, had a high potential for awkwardness that Ryan was not looking forward to.

The cabin they'd rented was homey, with all the necessary accoutrements: plenty of fluffy blankets and firewood and even a box of hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows. Shane beelined for the latter immediately, putting a kettle on the stove while Ryan unloaded their groceries.

“You gonna help with this?”

“I am helping!” he insisted, motioning to the kettle.

“You know I don’t really like chocolate, right?”

Shane spun the lazy susan of spices on the counter and pulled out a small container. “Then we’ll fill yours with enough cinnamon to tamp down the taste.”

Ryan smiled despite himself. “Alright fine.”

While they sipped on their hot chocolates, Ryan and Shane each picked a bedroom. Shane got the master with the king bed and patchwork quilt while Ryan took the spare with the flannel sheets. One thing about there only being two of them was that no one had to sleep on the pull-out couch now. 

They FaceTimed with Steven while their dinner was cooking. 

“You guys are making frozen pizza?! Man, I really should be there to save you from yourselves,” Steven lamented.

“Well, yeah. I wasn’t about to _cook_ on my vacay weekend,” Ryan said.

“Terrible,” Steven shook his head. “I’ll see how the roads are in the morning and hopefully I can make it out there and force you two to learn how to cook.”

“Easier said than done,” Shane said. “To both the driving out here and the cooking. The snow is coming down like crazy and we’re useless.”

“Well, I don’t disagree there. Please don’t burn the cabin down before I get there, okay? Remember we rented it in my name.”

Ryan pretended to drop his empty mug just to see Steven panic. “Did we? I totally forgot.”

“You’re pretty calm for a guy who has zero experience in a blizzard,” Steven shot back. “And you only have one Midwesterner there to rely on.”

“We’ll be fine,” Ryan scoffed. “Won’t we, big guy?”

“Absolutely, Steverino. Don’t worry about us.”

“Famous last words.”

Ryan felt a twinge in his gut that Steven was right, but he wrote it off, blaming it on the sugar rush. 

If only he’d listened to it.

* * *

Ryan woke up warm. Hot. Too hot. He flung the blankets off. Needed something cool. Water? Water.

But now he couldn’t move. Something was hovering over him in his bed. White, glowing, shaped vaguely like an animal. A cat? A fox? A ferret? Something with a long tail and body. A ghost? Ryan reached out to touch it and it hopped away from him, landing silently in front of his door.

Without a second thought, he followed it out of bed. It was blurrier now, probably because Ryan didn’t have his glasses, but he didn’t think to grab them either. He had to follow this strange little creature. That was all he knew.

The creature led him outside, leaping through the door like it was air. Not stopping to grab his coat or shoes, Ryan followed. He had to catch it. 

It was still snowing, thousands of snowflakes pelting Ryan’s bare arms and chest, but he barely noticed them. The creature was galloping through the snow, leaving nary a print behind. He ran after it as best he could in eight inches of fresh powder.

It stopped at the treeline, cocking its head at Ryan. This was his chance. With a diving leap, he reached out to grab it. The instant his fingers made contact, a voice exploded in his head.

_Ice to meet you, new friend! That was easy. Hope you enjoy the cold!_

“What?” Ryan murmured, his brain still foggy.

_You know, I really have to work for this normally, but you followed me so easily. Just for that, I’m going to give you one measly chance to break my curse._

“C-curse?”

_Ignite the fire that never goes out. But don’t dilly-dally! You’ve got a short time before it’s permanent._

“What’s permanent?!”

The creature booped his nose with its own. _Thanks for playing!_

The last thing Ryan remembered before he passed out was someone yelling his name.

* * *

“Ryan! Ryan, c’mon, please,” Shane was repeating over and over as Ryan blinked awake. Warm water was falling on him. “Ryan?!”

“What’s—what’s happening?” Ryan tried to stand but two large hands grabbed his shoulders to keep him put on the shower floor.

“Warm shower, trying to prevent hypothermia,” Shane said as he forced Ryan’s hands under the water. “How does that feel?”

It was scalding, pricking Ryan’s skin like hot needles. “Too hot.”

“Really? Well, I guess that’s good,” Shane said. He turned off the shower and grabbed some towels from under the sink. “Here, dry off quick so you don’t get too cold again.”

Numbly, Ryan wiped at his wet skin while Shane flitted in and out of the bathroom, bringing fresh sweatpants and a hoodie and finally, some underwear. He wouldn’t stop pulling at the ends of his hair, unintentionally making himself look like Doc Brown. Ryan wanted to tease him for it, but he didn’t have the energy for it. Everything inside him felt slow, creaky. Weirdly, he didn’t feel cold, although he figured his fingers must still be numb in some way from how long it took him to get redressed.

When he finally emerged, Shane was piling a bunch of blankets in front of the fire.

“C’mere. I’ve got some water boiling for tea, too.”

“Shane, I don’t feel cold, I promise.”

Shane leveled him with a look so serious it almost made Ryan laugh. “Get over here and wrap yourselves in these blankets right now.”

“Okay, okay.”

Ryan sat in front of the fire and wrapped the thinnest blanket around his shoulders. It really was too warm, but he could humor Shane for a little bit while he tried to piece together the night. He remembered a weird dream, something about a ghost animal luring him outside? He wasn’t sure that explained why he’d woken up in a shower, though.

Shane brought a steaming mug to Ryan and sat down next to him.

“You feel warm? You’ve got more blankets, you know.”

“I know.” Ryan took the mug but didn’t drink anything. “What happened?”

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“I was having a weird dream and next thing I know, you’re showering me with scalding hot water, so you tell me.”

Shane blinked at him. “You were outside, Ryan. In the snow. In only your pajama pants.”

“I thought that was my dream,” Ryan frowned. “I was really out there?”

“Yes.”

That was when Ryan noticed Shane’s hands were shaking. He kept trying to hide them under his blanket, but the tremble was strong enough that it didn’t matter. Of all the stressful and scary times the two of them had spent together, Ryan had never seen that before. It freaked him out almost more than trying to piece together the last half-hour.

“Maybe you need these blankets more than me,” Ryan said, offering one from his pile, but Shane immediately refused.

“No. You get warm, I’ll be fine.”

“I keep telling you man, I don’t feel cold at all. In fact, I’m kind of hot, I don’t need all of these.”

“Yes, you do,” Shane said. “You didn’t—when I found you, your skin—it was so cold. I thought you might be…”

He let the thought hang, staring into the fire, the edges of his blanket shaking. A horrible pit of guilt opened in Ryan’s stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said quietly. “I never would’ve...I don’t know what happened.”

“What do you remember?”

Ryan closed his eyes, trying to recall bits and pieces of his dream. “I was in my bed and some white glowy animal was floating above me. I think I followed it? But I don’t know why. And I guess I followed it outside. I was so hot, too. Like I was burning up and the snow didn’t bother me. And then I think I touched the animal thing? I dunno.”

“You nearly froze to death over a hallucination?!” Shane yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. “What the fuck, Ryan?”

“I guess, I don’t fucking know! I thought I was asleep and then I woke up in the shower, I can’t explain it.”

Judging by his narrowed eyes, that wasn’t a satisfactory answer for Shane. “Well, you’re alive, I guess that’s the main thing.”

“Yeah. Thank you, you know, for the save. And the tea,” Ryan said, lifting the mug to him. 

Instinctively, Ryan blew on the steam rising from the tea, but his breath didn’t just cool it a few degrees. The steam and the tea itself turned into a solid block of ice. Ryan screamed.

“What the fuck?!”

Ryan dropped the mug and backed away from it, like it was radioactive. Since it hit the nest of blankets, it didn’t break, but no tea spilled out of it either. How was that possible?!

“What, is there a bug or something?” Shane asked as he picked it up. He immediately dropped it again, clutching his fingers to his chest. “Ah! Why is it frozen?!”

Panic surged through Ryan’s body at lightning speed, his head thrumming and his heart pumping with adrenaline. What the fuck, how did the tea freeze like that? And the mug too? What the fuck? Ryan tried to slow his breathing, but every puff of breath produced a small cloud of snow, the flakes falling to the floor. _What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_.

“Ryan?” 

Shane reached out for him, eyes wide and filled with uncharacteristic worry. Terrified, Ryan backed away, sliding on the blankets and holding his hands up.

“Stay back, I don’t know what’s happening!”

Shane didn’t stop, following him with a now-steady hand. “Ryan, stop, just breathe.”

“I can’t, there’s snow, stay BACK!”

As Ryan yelled, a six-inch cone of snow burst from his hands, just missing Shane’s outstretched arm. It fell to the floor in a neat pile, the edges already melting from the fire. 

They stared at each other and then at the snow, dumbfounded. 

What the _fuck_?

“I’m gonna hurl,” Ryan said before bolting to the bathroom.

As he was flushing the toilet, Ryan noticed the shower out of the corner of his eye. The entire floor was covered in a thick layer of ice that spidered up the walls. Ryan fell against the bathroom cabinet, hands shaking violently. This had to be a dream, a nightmare, the world’s worst night terror.

Shane sat down next to him, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak. 

“Tell me this isn’t real,” Ryan said. “Tell me it’s all a figment of my imagination and that I’m crazy and that there’s a completely reasonable explanation for this.”

“I can’t,” Shane said softly.

“Yes, you can! You do it all the time! We built a company off of you telling me I’m crazy!” Ryan pleaded. “Tell me none of this is real, please, Shane, say it!”

“Ryan, I’m sorry,” Shane said as he threw an arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “And not just because this means you’re not wrong about the paranormal.”

“Oh fuck you,” Ryan shot back with the hint of a laugh. It really was something the way Shane could always pull him back from the edge.

“Truly a dark day when you’ve been proven right,” Shane sighed dramatically. “And, you know, the Elsa of it all.”

Ryan studied his hands, trying to find anything different about them, marks or scars or cuts, but they were the same old hands. “Is that what you think it is? Ice powers?”

“I mean, you turned a cup of tea into an ice cube and shot snow at me. What else would it be?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s anything good, though.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. You could help rebuild the glaciers!”

“Okay, slow down, I don’t even know what I can do with this shit yet,” Ryan said. “Or if it’s even safe.”

“Then let’s find out, baby!” Shane said, giving Ryan’s shoulder a squeeze. 

“Dude, it’s like 3 in the morning.”

Shane raised his eyebrows at him. “Dude, are you going to go back to sleep anytime soon?”

Shane had him there. 

“Alright. Where should we start?”

* * *

They went outside, Shane bundled up and Ryan in his hoodie, sweats, and boots. The cold didn’t bother him that much now; it even felt invigorating to a certain degree. 

The blizzard had finally calmed for the night, leaving a healthy dumping of thick snow all around the cabin. Ryan picked up a chunk of it with his bare hands, amazed that there was no sting of pain. 

“Anyone can make a snowball, do something with it,” Shane told him.

“Like what?”

“Push it with your snow powers. Or turn it into an ice cube.”

“And how do I do that?”

“I dunno.”

“Very helpful, Shane,” Ryan muttered. 

He passed the snowball back and forth between his hands a few times, trying to will it into an ice cube. It stayed an imperfect ball, but the snow seemed to be drawn to him, like it understood what he was asking of it. Ryan held it still in his right hand and closed his other hand on top of it.

_Turn into a cube. Be cube shaped. Please?_

When he opened his hands, the snowball had formed into a perfect cube. 

Ryan yelled, “Holy smokes, dude! Look!”

Shane shined his phone’s flashlight down on it. “Wow! That is definitely a snow cube.”

Ryan tossed it into the air a few times and it kept its shape, always falling back into Ryan’s hand like with ease. He curled his hands around it again, this time willing it into the perfect snowball. 

“Hey big guy, think fast!”

He chucked the snowball at Shane without another thought, laughing when it impacted against his chest.

“Oh, that was hardly fair,” Shane groused, wiping the leftover snow off of his coat. 

“You snooze, you lose!” Ryan shouted, feeling like his old self for the first time all night. He quickly formed another snowball and pelted Shane again. The snowballs knew exactly where Ryan wanted them to land, like they were homing missiles.

“Really? You get superpowers and the first thing you want to do is have a snowball fight?”

Ryan aimed a snowball right for the center of Shane’s chest and cackled as it burst against his coat. “Yup.”

“It’s the middle of the night and one of us is at a distinct disadvantage here,” Shane pointed out.

Ryan tossed a snowball absentmindedly between his hands, full-on taunting him. “So?”

“So…” Shane said, kicking at the snow around his feet. “You’re about to find out that experience trumps fancy little snow powers any day of the week.”

Immediately, Shane ducked down to chuck a snowball of his own at Ryan, hitting him in the hip. Ryan retaliated, throwing his at Shane’s thigh. He was undeterred, though, running through the snow with ease, his long legs ably navigating the thick powder. He threw a few more Ryan’s way, although only one of them made contact, hitting Ryan’s arm. Ryan rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. He had this.

Quickly, he lobbed three snowballs at Shane, all hitting him square in the chest, but Shane kept going, taking giant steps to try and throw Ryan off. He had no chance, though. Cackling like a witch, Ryan pelted him again, too amused by how easy it was. Shane tried in vain to retaliate, but he didn’t have the aim for it, all of his snowballs landing in the snow by Ryan’s feet. Poor big guy, he always fell to pieces during a game, even one like—

“Whoa!” Ryan yelped as a six-foot-four scarecrow tackled him into the snow. 

“You snooze, you lose, Berg- _ice_ -ster,” Shane grinned triumphantly as he straddled Ryan’s waist. His hands were holding Ryan’s above his head. “See if you can make any of your little homing missiles now.”

Ryan was so shocked he didn’t even try to fight him. “Jesus Christ, how did you even do that?!” 

“The ol’ Sneaky Shane move! Perfected by me in 1994 during an epic battle with Scott. He still whines about it.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Eh, you had me beat on the actual snowball part, it was all I had,” Shane said with a shrug. He always did that, always immediately downplayed anything cool he ever did. If Ryan was a hypocrite, it would’ve annoyed him.

“Still, I think you may have finally won something,” Ryan grinned up at him. 

“Yeah? What’d I win?”

Shane was grinning back, his crooked smile illuminated by the moonlight. It had been awhile since they’d been this close. Ryan forgot how many freckles Shane had, the way they dotted his face and neck like stars in the sky above them. 

“I dunno, what do you want?” 

“A lot of things,” Shane said easily. “A complete overhaul of the government, a giant house with a lazy river, movie dates at the Arclight. Some new Airpods.”

“Well, I can’t help you with any of those.”

Shane cocked his head. “Are you sure?”

Uneasiness seeped through Ryan’s bones. What was Shane talking about? It’s not like Ryan had extra Airpods in his pocket, let alone was capable of anything else on his list. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Shane’s smiled faded. “I see.”

An awkward silence fell over them, twisting Ryan’s stomach into knots. He had to break it, had to get things back to normal. He got his fingers around a small amount of snow and willed it right for Shane’s forehead.

“Ha! I still win, big guy!” Ryan grinned triumphantly.

Shane didn’t look so congratulatory as he stood up. “I guess you did.”

“Aw, c’mon, you put up a good fight.”

“Not good enough, apparently,” he said, turning back towards the cabin. 

“Hey, where are you going? We just got out here!”

“Tired,” Shane called back. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

And with that, Ryan was alone, surrounded only by snow.

* * *

Ryan didn’t sleep well under the best of circumstances, let alone during a night where a mysterious ghost-spirit-creature-thing gave him snow powers. He was terrified that the aforementioned ghost-spirit-creature-thing would lead him back outside to fuck with him again the minute he closed his eyes, so he kept them wide open as long as he could.

But not even Ryan could fight off sleep forever.

He dreamt of snow and ice. Snowboarding down Denali. Snowmen on the beach. An icicle-laden face outside a window. A daring snow fight with a blurry adversary set to Christophe Beck’s Frozen score. And one very smug, glowing spirit.

 _Tick tock. Ignite the fire that never goes out_. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Ryan demanded. “And what is this shit, ice powers? What the fuck?”

_You’ll never do it. Hope you like the cold!_

“What?!”

_Toodles!_

Ryan woke up and scrambled to write down the spirit had said in his phone. As sleep overtook him again, he tried to focus on fire, but he dreamt only of ice.

* * *

They slept in late on Saturday, too drained from the previous night to get out of bed and make a proper breakfast. Shane slapped some peanut butter and jelly on toast for them as they quietly ate in front of the TV.

“So, are you still all, you know, Mr. Freeze?” Shane asked.

Ryan held up his cup of orange juice that had turned into a slushie. “What do you think?”

“Ah. I was kind of hoping it’d all been a dream.”

“Join the club.” 

At Shane’s mention of a dream, Ryan’s memory pinged. He opened his phone to see the note he’d written down last night.

_Ignite the fire that never goes out._

“What is it? You’ve got that look when something happens to your baller boys.”

“Huh? No. I think the thing that did this to me visited me in a dream last night and told me something, but I don’t get it.”

“You probably just dreamed about it because, you know, all this happened,” Shane pointed out.

Ryan didn’t dignify that with a comment. He knew it wasn’t a regular dream. “‘Ignite the fire that never goes out.’ Have you ever heard of that before?”

“Well, there are eternal flames, like at JFK’s memorial in DC. But they’re already lit, obviously.”

“Hmm,” Ryan frowned. DC was a long way from California. 

“What are you supposed to do with this fire that never goes out?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan said as he watched the fire crackle in the nearby fireplace. “I think it’s supposed to get rid of the powers.”

“Oh, well then who cares? Why would you get rid of superpowers?”

“I dunno, I don’t love the idea of never being able to have a hot drink again.”

“You just have to learn to control it! That’s a whole thing, right? Every superhero movie has the whole montage where the hero learns to control their newfound abilities. We just gotta montage you!” Shane said with a grin so infectious Ryan caught it immediately.

“You think?”

“Yeah! I’ll be your rugged old mentor, whippin’ you into shape with snappy one-liners!”

“We need a good soundtrack. Rocky’s too obvious, how about Creed?” Ryan suggested as he stretched out his arms.

“Good call. I’ll queue up the Black Panther score, too.”

“More Göransson, nice,” Ryan said. He was so thankful, not for the first time, that Shane knew movie composers as well as he did. “Better throw in some Frozen, too. Gotta be thematically appropriate.”

Shane’s eyes lit up. “Now, if we’re talking winter movie scores, we got more to work with. I mean, The Thing?”

They kept up the composer talk while they got changed, shouting from their different rooms about their favorite pieces and which would be the most snow-training-appropriate. There were times when Ryan didn’t understand Shane at all, like his unrelenting skepticism or his passion for depressing white dude bands or his fear of expressing a feeling, but when the two of them were on the same page, it felt like there was no one on earth that Ryan connected with more. They really were two mismatched peas in a pod, brought together by chance and a free afternoon on a Google calendar. A relationship that transcended mere friendship or business. Not even Steven could compare. There really was no one else like Shane. 

A line of sweat broke out down Ryan’s spine. He blamed it on how warm it was in his room and rushed to meet Shane out in the snow.

* * *

Set to a playlist of some of the best movie scores of all time, Ryan found out he could do a lot more than aim snowballs at Shane’s giant head.

1\. He could shoot snow out of his hands, and one time, when he really concentrated, a potentially lethal icicle. Thankfully, it landed harmlessly in the snow, but Shane moved his coaching chair to behind Ryan anyway.

2\. Snow was like modeling clay to him, now. He could form it into anything he thought of, even though Ryan had never been much of an artist, let alone a sculptor. While singing “Do You Want To Build a Snowman?” with Shane, he created a cartoonishly perfect snowman, three perfectly round spheres right on top of each other. Shane finished it off with some pinecone eyes and some of their rental’s silverware for its nose and mouth. Would they remember to return the spoons before the end of the trip? Probably not.

3\. Ryan could also shape ice, although not as easy as the snow. The Watcher logo he tried to create looked more like someone shot a hole through a W than the actual thing.

4\. He could create little snow clouds that followed him around, reminiscent of a Charlie Brown rain cloud. 

5\. By accident, he realized he could manipulate the size of individual snowflakes. He was just brushing some off of his hands when a flick of the wrist enlarged one snowflake to the size of Ryan’s palm. It was stunning, an intricate six-pointed beauty that was clear enough to see his reflection in. He and Shane stared into it silently, neither sure what to say to capture the beauty of the moment. 

6\. He could fucking Iceman slide.

“I’m doing it! Holy shit!” Ryan yelled with glee as he was able to create enough momentum from the snow shooting out of his hands to slide around the yard. 

“You’re going like one mile per hour,” Shane reminded him, but he was grinning as he filmed Ryan with his phone. 

“Who gives a shit?! I’m sliding around on ice I made with my fucking hands!”

“Yes, you’re very cool now, Ryan,” Shane said dryly. 

Ryan slid to a stop right in front of him, entirely to throw an ironic shaka in his face. “I’ve always been cool. Now I’m _ice cold_ , baby.”

“Oh no, don’t go all Arnold on me.”

“Let’s kick some _ice_!” Ryan cackled, doing his best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression (which was terrible). 

“What killed the dinosaurs, Ryan?” Shane asked, his eyes twinkling as he played along.

“The Ice Age!” Ryan sprayed Shane in a dusting of snow before sliding away again. “Stay cool, big boy!”

Sputtering, Shane shook the snow out of his eyes and off his clothes. “Okay, no more Mr. Freeze jokes if you’re going to be like this.”

“I'm afraid my condition has left me cold to your pleas of mercy,” Ryan smirked.

Shane laughed. “Jesus, do you have that movie memorized?”

“Nah. Roland and I got high a couple weeks ago and watched it,” he explained. 

“Well, that is the only way to experience it.”

Ryan slid to a stop again, an idea forming in his head. “Hey, do these people have a hose?”

“I dunno. What are you thinking?”

“I wanna make a skating rink.”

“Aren’t you basically skating now, except, you know, cooler?” Shane winced as soon as he said it. “Pun unintended.”

“Not really, I have to use my hands for the snow. And besides, this way we can both skate.”

Shane’s eyebrows shot up into his poorly-fitted beanie. “Uh, sorry to break it to you, but I didn’t pack my ice skates.”

“Remember that one shitty X-Men movie—”

“That does not narrow it down.”

“—where Iceman makes skates out of ice? We can do that!”

“I don’t know, Ryan, your ice sculpting is not one-hundred-percent accurate so far,” Shane pointed out.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Ryan pleaded, knowing damn well Shane wouldn’t say no to him. 

Shane sighed. “Okay, fine.”

Using the outside hose, Ryan froze a large patch of ice in the middle of the yard, about twenty feet by fifteen. The skates he created for his shoes weren’t perfect, but they functioned enough for him to stay up right and try out his makeshift rink. After proving to Shane they actually worked, he sculpted some onto the bottom of his ghoul-hunting boots.

“This is a terrible idea,” Shane grumbled as he ran a gloved hand over his skates.

Ryan held out an arm for him to steady himself on. “Remember how to fall from roller derby? Gotta be the same principle here, you’ll be fine.”

“Oh yeah, roller derby, that thing I was famously good at.”

Shane gripped onto Ryan’s arm like a vice as he pulled himself up. Limbs flailing, he almost fell right back down, but Ryan was steady enough to help keep him upright.

“Here, grab my shoulders, I’ll lead you around while you get the hang of it,” Ryan told him.

Unsteady hands grabbed Ryan’s shoulders, the fingers digging into his collarbone. “Lead on.”

Despite not being any kind of great skater, Ryan was athletic enough to stay up on his feet most of the time in the past. But now, it felt as easy and simple as walking, his feet gliding effortlessly across the ice. It took him a minute to realize it wasn’t that his skating ability was suddenly better, but that his ice skates were listening to his body, adjusting for every turn, and keeping him and Shane upright. 

“Wait, Ryan, slow down!”

“I’ve got you, Roller Squatch, don’t worry,” Ryan assured him as he cut a sharp corner with ease.

Shane’s grip tightened. “No, stop! Your hair—it’s turning white!”

“What?!” 

Ryan stopped abruptly and Shane slammed into him, his hands flailing around his waist in an effort to stay standing. 

“Jesus—some warning next time!”

Ryan ignored him as he pulled out his phone to look at himself in the camera. Sure enough, there was a fresh batch of white curls on the left side of his head.

“What the fuck?!” He grabbed at them, trying to shake the snow or ice or whatever was on his hair out, but no, it was his actual hair.

“It just happened, while we were skating,” Shane told him, catching Ryan’s eye in the front-facing camera. “It started from the root and turned the rest white from there.”

“Is it still doing it?!”

Shane inspected Ryan’s head. “Not that I can see.”

Ryan’s fingers clenched around his hair, still in disbelief. “Why would my hair change color, dude?!”

“Doesn’t Anna’s do that in Frozen? Maybe it’s an ice power thing.”

“Well, I hate it,” Ryan said, angrily stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He’d always loved his black hair, proud of how it tied him to both sides of his family. And, shallowly, he really wanted to hold off on going grey until he was further into his 30s. This was bullshit.

“It looks kinda cool, actually,” Shane said. “You can pull it off.”

Ryan turned around so he could look at him properly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! Way better than I could, for sure. Maybe not as good as Steven, but that’s impossible to compete with anyway.”

“That’s true.” Ryan was so distracted by his hair, he didn’t realize Shane wasn’t holding onto him anymore. “Hey look, you’re standing on your own!”

“So I am!” Shane grinned, spreading his arms out. Immediately, he began to wobble, so Ryan grasped one of his hands to hold him securely.

“Or maybe not,” Shane added sheepishly. “Thanks for the save.”

“Of course.”

“It’s too bad we can’t skate like this. We’d be a regular pair of ice dancers! Like the Shib Sibs or Virtue and Moir!”

“I always forget that ice dancing is the one sport you know jackshit about,” Ryan grinned, shaking his head. “Of all things. Why?”

“It’s the _artistry_ , Ryan.”

“Lots of sports have artistry! Man, you can’t watch LeBron play at the top of his game and tell me that’s not art.”

“I’ve already forgotten every word you just said.”

Ryan sighed. He was never going to win that one, but he kept trying anyway. “Grab my shoulder with your other hand, let’s see if we can give the pros a run for their money.”

“Oh, I was just—that was a joke,” Shane stammered as pink bloomed across his nose.

“Put your hand on my shoulder, Shane.”

Shane did as he was told. “Okay.”

Ryan grabbed onto Shane’s side and slowly began skating backwards. It was awkward at first, but his skates never let them fall, still contorting into whatever angle Ryan needed them to be at. Once they were in a groove, Shane finally relaxed, his body no longer a series of tight, straight lines. 

“There you go! See, big guy? You just gotta let go and enjoy yourself.”

“Ah, I knew we’d get to a ‘Let It Go’ reference sooner or later,” Shane grinned.

“You know I had to,” Ryan grinned back. “Let it go, let it goooo!”

Shane repeated him, singing it back in a much clearer tone than Ryan could. “I don’t know any of the other words, though.”

Giddy, Ryan spun them around in a quick circle. “You’re forgiven.”

“Whoa! Gettin’ fancy on me, Berg-ice-ster.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Uh.”

“Hold on, okay?”

Once Shane nodded, Ryan sped up his skating. Once he had enough speed, he pulled Shane in close and began to spin them in a tight circle, over and over again. Ryan didn’t even have to think about how to do it, his skates just knew what he wanted to do and made it happen. 

“Holy shit!” Shane yelled as they spun, his hand tight in Ryan’s.

Ryan hollered in response, so hyped up on adrenaline and his newfound powers. Shane joined in, laughing and yelling like they were on HangTime at Knott’s. It was one of the most purely exhilarating moments of Ryan’s entire life. Even as he slowed them down, Ryan could still feel his heart racing.

“Yes! I can’t believe that worked! The skates _listened_ to me, dude!”

“That was...wow.” Shane shook his head, his eyes wide. “You’re amazing, Ryan.”

“It’s these powers! They’re so fucking sweet, I’ve never skated like that, but it didn’t matter, they just knew what I wanted to do and did it!”

“I’m not talking about the powers,” Shane clarified. His hand that was still clasped with Ryan’s shifted, their fingers now interlaced. “It’s you. You just...you take my breath away, sometimes.”

Ryan’s heart began to pound against his chest, the weight of Shane’s words and his gaze heavy on his soul. He didn’t mean...he couldn’t. There was no way. 

“I think that was the skating,” Ryan deflected. 

“No, it wasn’t.”

Sweat broke out on Ryan’s forehead, the droplets instantly turning into ice. His whole body was a strange mix of hot and cold and snow and sun. He might’ve passed out if it wasn’t for Shane squeezing his hand, holding him up.

“Shane,” Ryan breathed, a small cloud of snow expelling from his lips.

Shane ducked his head for only a second before his face twisted up in pain. “Fuck! Ryan let go of me!”

“What?”

“My hand! Let go!”

Ryan looked over at their entwined hands in horror. Ice from Ryan’s hand was wrapped all around Shane’s fingers and slowly inching its way up his palm, towards his wrist. Ryan immediately dropped his hand but the ice didn’t go away. He tried to bat it off, but every time he touched it, the ice grew bigger.

“You’re making it worse!” Shane winced through gritted teeth.

Undeterred, Ryan focused on pulling the ice away. After a few seconds, the ice around Shane’s hand finally broke, zooming into Ryan’s outstretched hands. Shane curled his hand against his chest. 

“Jesus, there. I don’t know why that took so long, stupid powers,” Ryan said. “Good thing you’re wearing gloves.”

Frowning, Shane pressed his other fingers against his de-iced hand. “I can’t feel my fingers.”

Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“I’m stretching them and I can’t feel them,” he explained, flexing his hands. 

A thrum ran through Ryan’s body as adrenaline and panic flooded his veins. “Inside! Go inside! C’mon!”

When Ryan offered his hand to help Shane off the ice into the snow, Shane flinched, sending a spike of shame into Ryan’s gut. Filled with guilt, Ryan de-iced their boots and cleared a path back to their cabin.

Inside, Shane headed straight for the bathroom, filling the sink with hot water with his good hand. 

“Shane…,” Ryan said quietly, hovering at the doorway.

“I’ve just got to get my hand warm again,” Shane said as he lowered his bright red fingers into the water with a gasp. “Fuck!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Ryan babbled. “I’ll call 911 or we can drive somewhere, I’m sorry.”

“Ryan, it’s mild frostbite, I don’t need an ambulance.”

Ryan was already looking up WebMD on his phone. “How do you know it’s mild? What if it’s really bad and you lose your fingers and have to relearn how to puppeteer?!”

“Because I did a frostbite web search last night when I found you outside,” Shane said through gritted teeth. “Fuck, this stings so bad.”

Automatically, Ryan reached out to help, but Shane took a step away. 

“Let me help.”

“You can’t help, Ryan, your hands are ice makers!” Shane snapped. 

“I didn’t mean to!”

“I know!” Shane closed his eyes as he took a long breath. “If you wanna help, go restart the fire.”

Ryan tried, he really did. He used his own lighter, the matches from the rental, and even dug through Shane’s stash for his, and none would stay lit in Ryan’s hands long enough to light even a ball of paper. He tried poking at the few dying coals, but the poker got so icy that it put them out completely. 

“Fuck! Why won’t this fucking work?!”

“I’ll try,” Shane said, stepping out of the bathroom. His left hand was half-wrapped in gauze, now. He took a lighter and clicked it on with ease, reigniting the logs.

Shane swaddled himself in the blankets leftover from the night before and sat with his left side closest to the fireplace. Despite how uncomfortably warm it was, Ryan joined him.

“How does it feel?”

“Well, I can feel things again, so that’s a plus. Unfortunately, it stings a lot, but better to feel something than nothing, I guess,” Shane said as he carefully wrapped the rest of the gauze around his fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said again. It didn’t feel like enough, though. 

“It was an accident. Shit happens,” Shane told him. His eyes suddenly widened. “Oh wow. Your hair’s even whiter.”

Ryan immediately clutched his hair. “Goddammit, are you serious?” 

“Yeah. It’s like half-and-half, now.”

“Great. Just great.”

The flames left off a beautiful orange glow, illuminating the planes of Shane’s face as he poked at his fingers. Something had almost happened between them out there on the ice. Something Ryan knew couldn’t happen. The risk was too great, too many things could go wrong, and too many people’s livelihoods depended on him and Shane being exactly what they were now. Ryan was the king of back-up plans, of contingencies for when everything inevitably went to shit. There was no back-up plan in a world where he and Shane destroy each other. Because, worst-case scenario, that’s what would happen. And Ryan believed in worst-case scenarios more than he did in ghosts.

* * *

When Shane decided to go take a nap, Ryan went to make himself a sandwich. Unfortunately, the peanut butter, jelly, and the bread all turned to ice as soon as he touched them. He didn’t understand, he’d been able to eat the exact same thing this morning just fine. His powers must have been getting stronger, taking over his body little by little, including his hair.

Frustrated, Ryan grabbed the pint of vanilla ice cream Shane had tossed into their cart and shut himself up in his room. He was hungry enough to down the entire pint in one sitting, even though all the sugar made his stomach ache. Once he was done, he angrily tossed the carton and spoon across the room. 

How was he going to live like this? He couldn’t survive on ice cream alone. The mere thought of never biting into a hot tamale again brought a frozen tear to Ryan’s eye. Not being able to chow down on tamales with his family every Christmas was one of the worst fates he could imagine.

His family...fuck. He’d given Shane frostbite while wearing a glove, what the hell was going to happen when he was around his family? Would Ryan ever be able to hug his mom again without sending her to the ER? 

Dating was going to be out, too. If his own tears and sweat were coming out as ice crystals, he didn’t even want to know what would shoot out of his dick when he came. Fucking horrifying.

He was going to have to move out of his apartment with Roland and Danny, get a place by himself. Somewhere he could keep it nice and cold and not hurt anyone else. Maybe he could get decent rent above an ice cream shop.

Watcher...that was more complicated. He could probably continue to work from home for awhile. But eventually, they’d need to shoot in person again. He couldn’t risk being around anyone, not for talk shows in haunted mazes or Shane’s weird and wonderful finds. His stomach lurched at never being able to shoot more Tourist Trapped. That was his baby. Cut down before it could even walk.

Ryan curled up into as tight of a ball as he could, his body shaking with uncontrollable icy tears. His life as he knew it was over. All because of some weird fucking spirit. Why the fuck had it come to him? Why had he followed it? Why was any of this happening?

“Ryan?” Shane asked as he knocked on Ryan’s door. “Can I come in?”

“No.”

“Oh, um, well, I was gonna start packing the car if you wanted to help.”

Oh. So, Shane was leaving him on top of everything else? Ryan couldn’t hold it against him, though. He was safer the further he got away from him. 

“Just let me know when you leave,” Ryan said, trying to keep his voice steady. 

“What?” Shane opened the door, his eyes narrowed. “Are you not planning to come with?”

“Why would I go anywhere with you?” Ryan spat. If Shane wasn’t going to leave him alone for his own good, Ryan was going to have to drive him away.

“Um. Because we need to go get you some help?”

“Yeah, and where is that, Shane? Where on fucking earth can someone fix _this_?” Ryan demanded, blowing snow all over his bed with just one breath.

“I don’t know! But we can look! There’s got to be a scientist or a doctor or some kind of spiritual leader out there who can help you,” Shane argued, edging towards Ryan.

“I fucking doubt it. The spirit said I had to ignite some fucking fire and, as you can remember, I can’t ignite shit, so I’m shit outta luck.”

“Maybe it’s not a real fire. Maybe it’s a puzzle.”

“Oh good, because I’m great at puzzles,” Ryan said bitterly. “Accept it, Shane. I’m stuck like this, and I’m going to be a miserable Iceman for the rest of my life.”

“You don’t know that! C’mon, Ryan, we can figure this out,” Shane said with a hopeful smile. It infuriated him.

“No, _we_ fucking can’t!” Ryan yelled. “This is _my_ fucking problem! You don’t need to butt your giant nose into my shit all the time.”

Shane’s mouth snapped into a thin line. “I’m pretty sure this stopped being only _your_ problem the moment I saw your lifeless body in a pile of snow.”

“I would’ve been fine, so my point stands.” Ryan let every ugly thought he’d ever had crack through the surface, even the ones he didn’t mean. He had to make Shane leave him alone. “Look, I know you have no idea what to do when you can’t follow me everywhere like a little lost puppy, but you’re gonna have to learn. No better time to start than now.”

“I know what you’re doing, stop it,” Shane demanded.

“Stop what? Stop telling the truth?” Ryan finally flung himself out of bed, on the opposite side from Shane. “Nah, big boy. You’re so scared of doing anything on your own that you can’t do anything without me. Well, I can’t be your crutch anymore. I can’t hold your hand through life.”

Shane reflexively squeezed his fists together, wincing from the strain on his frostbitten fingers. “That’s not—you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, I do.” Ryan folded his arms, secretly amazed that The King of Non-Confrontation hadn’t run away yet. “Would you have left BuzzFeed without me?”

Shane hesitated. “I—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Can’t make any decision unless I do it first. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is to be around?”

Shane turned to leave, his hand on the door. Finally. 

Except when Shane shut the door, he was still inside Ryan’s room.

“I’m not going to let you do this,” Shane said, his voice catching. “You’re not going to push me away, not after…,” he trailed off, swallowing hard.

“Look, I know last night had to be scary, but I was okay! You were scared for nothing!”

Shane barked out an ugly laugh. “Oh, I wish this was just about last night, about finding you completely still in the snow, about dragging you through it, and finally lifting you into my arms to get you into the house. If _only_ it was just about that. If _only_ it had nothing to do with the fact that this is the closest we’ve been since March. If _only_ I hadn’t spent most of the last year further away from you since the day we met.” Shane rounded the bed until he was in Ryan’s personal space, looming over him. “You’re not taking that away from me. Not again.”

Ryan took a step back. “But it’s not safe. If 2020 taught us anything, it’s that.”

Like always, Shane followed him. “If 2020 taught _me_ anything, it’s that I’m not going to waste any more fucking time.”

Gently, Shane laid his good hand on the side of Ryan’s face, his fingers wrapping themselves around the ends of his curls. He shivered, but didn’t pull his hand away. “You’re not wrong. I do follow you everywhere, to haunted houses and theme parks and a new career. But it’s not because I can’t do it myself. It’s because I don’t want to.”

Something was happening inside Ryan’s body. Sweat fell down his back, only some of it turning to ice. He was burning up and freezing at the same time, goosebumps littering his skin. Small bursts of snow expelled from his fingertips onto the floor. But he had to stay upright, if for no other reason than to keep Shane from making the biggest mistake of his life.

“Shane, we can’t,” Ryan pleaded as an ice crystal fell down his cheek. “Worst-case scenario, I kill you with my ice dick and Watcher’s destroyed and I spend the rest of my life in a Mr. Freeze jail.”

Shane blinked. “Ice...dick?”

“An educated guess.”

“Jesus Christ,” Shane wheezed, shaking his head fondly. “See? Why would I ever want to be separated from you ever again?”

“I’m serious, man, I don’t know what I’m capable of now! I’m not going to risk your life, no matter what.”

Shane wiped away a tear under Ryan’s eye, a real tear. “Why are you so convinced that the worst is going to happen?”

“Because it already has, dipshit!” Ryan motioned to Shane’s bandaged hand. “It always does! Look at the last fucking year, it was the fucking worst for us!”

“But it wasn’t, Ryan. Sure, it fucking sucked hot shit, but we’re still here. Our families are healthy. Watcher’s chugging along. If that’s your worst-case scenario, then it’s actually pretty okay.”

For someone who was terrified of therapists, Shane was doing a decent job impersonating one. But Ryan wasn’t convinced.

“Pretty okay still isn’t good. It still isn’t worth the risk.”

Shane was undeterred. “What about the best-case scenario? Is that worth it?”

Ryan let himself imagine it. A fantasy buried deep within him bursting through. He and Shane traveling the country, hand-in-hand, delighting each other with tourist traps and hidden gems. Shane smiling at him from under the sheets, his hair wild and his pants forgotten. Two rings in matching velvet boxes. A diamond YouTube plaque and a Netflix deal. A house. A real, actual house with a backyard and a fence and a dog that will live forever. Shane holding a baby and singing some made-up song. Christmases in Schaumburg, even though Ryan hates the cold, and Thanksgivings in Arcadia, even though Shane can’t handle the spicy food. A Disney trip with a kid on each of their shoulders. Laying in bed together every night for as long as this world will have them. A life, together. 

The best life.

“Yes,” Ryan breathed.

Before Shane could respond, Ryan surged up to kiss him. The moment their lips touched, Ryan’s body shuddered. Heat surged through him, melting every snowflake and icicle in its path. Warmth returned to him, his body beading with real sweat, his fingertips hot on Shane’s shoulders. 

The fire was ignited.

* * *

“Oh shit. I just thought of the perfect line for earlier,” Ryan said as he ran a towel over his mostly-black hair.

Shane wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist and kissed the side of his head. “And what’s that?”

“The Iceman cometh,” Ryan grinned.

Shane wheezed, his breath blowing Ryan’s one streak of white curls forward. “He cometh-ed so hard it nearly got in my eye.”

“Hey, be glad it was real come and not all icy,” Ryan pointed out as he turned around in Shane’s arms. “That could’ve been a very different story.”

“True. I guess thanks to the weird spirit creature’s metaphor that you’re back to normal.”

A handful of snowflakes fell in between them. “I wouldn’t say that.”

As Shane kissed him, Ryan knew that he would never be fully free of the ice within him. No flame was hot enough for that. But with Shane by his side, he knew the fire was strong enough to get through anything life threw their way. 

“Uh, guys? I tried calling y’all, but you wouldn’t answer. I brought Uno!” Steven fucking Lim announced from the front door.

Even that. 


End file.
